


Sunday Morning: Breakfast Snack

by hiimraen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a justified perv, Derek's POV, Established Relationship, M/M, Mates, PWP, Rimming, Scents & Smells, Sharing Clothes, Stiles is more than willing, This is purely sex, just saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiimraen/pseuds/hiimraen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get when you have a half naked Stiles in Derek's shirt, a very naked Derek, and a Sunday morning without a plan - at least not until 11.</p><p> </p><p>If you answered sex...well, you're not wrong. Not really.</p><p>P/s: There's no snack. Unless if you count Stiles. </p><p>P/p/s: <i>No</i>, this is not a cannibalism fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning: Breakfast Snack

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I get when I forced myself to do a Currents coda - I caved in to my emotions halfway through, made myself believe that there's nothing I could do now that'll make it any better, and opt for a domestically smutty fic instead.
> 
> I blame SDCC, to be honest.
> 
> Again, thanks to my lovely beta, [Ms. Hale](http://lydiahastings.tumblr.com/) (*wink wink*) who as always, did a good job in making sure that what came out of my mind was actually English. If it wasn't for her, well...you might even sleep halfway through because repeated words so many whut
> 
> Um, heads up. I believe there's something to be desired about vocalized consent in this one, so let's just say that this is a little bit on the dub-con side. Although I personally don't think of it much as an Issue, I'm just stating this here in case if some of you guys are not that okay with it. And there was a blink-and-you'll-miss D/s tone, just a tiny bit - it's not even a full sentence. So there's that. 
> 
> Read ahead, kudos and comments are love. Enjoy your Sunday morning!

 

 

 

Derek woke up to the strong, sweet smell of coffee and the sound of someone, Stiles probably; slurping on what Derek would guess a cup of it. Derek could feel the warm sun kissing the planes of his naked back, his arms and legs stretched out over the bed, feeling the warmth from where Stiles was sleeping, eating up the heat like he was deprived of it and content to be with this ghost of a body when the real thing was in the same place, same house – same _home_ – as he was.

 

He stretched his arms further still, relishing at the small pop of his shoulders, sighing in relief when warm blood rushed to the still sleeping muscles. Derek did the same with his legs and his back, enjoying the push and arch of his body, taking his own sweet time waking up; Derek dropped his torso back to the bed with a contented sigh. A small happy sound came from the area of the table, and Derek smiled to himself; he could almost see it in his mind, how it was.

 

Stiles was probably standing at the table facing the bed, clothed with nothing but his ( _Derek’s_ ) sweat pants, riding so low on his hips that the only saving grace was the two plump muscles of his rump efficiently hindering the article from sliding all the way down to the floor. His favorite black mug – so large it could hold the contents of two large coffees from the vendor two blocks away from the loft. Stiles was either reading the news or playing one of those games on his iPad – it’s either Sudoku or Kakuro, both of which Derek will never understand how to solve despite Stiles’ relentless tutelage.

 

“Wake up, sleepy head.” Stiles’ voice was like a siren call, sweet in the morning and full of promise, and Derek was pleased to know that that was the first thing he heard after his own voice. Derek pushed himself up, swinging his legs over his side of the bed, letting them touch the cold floor, rolling his neck clockwise and again counter-clockwise before letting the stream of morning light filter in through the slit of his eyes.

 

And the sight that came into his view was so damn beautiful.

 

Stiles was by the table alright, his mug in left hand and his right hand touching the screen of the iPad softly. The sunlight was caressing Stiles’ whole body in a reverent way, making his skin glow in the morning light and coloring his hair to a golden hue. But best of all, in Derek’s view, was what Stiles was wearing.

 

He was wearing Derek’s shirt from yesterday, the light peach color complementing the tone of his skin. It was a gift from Lydia for Christmas last year, along with a note that said, ‘ _Go get a job – Lydia._ ’ (Derek was skeptical about the shirt at first because it was the first ever shade-of-pink shirt that Derek owned, not that he had anything against the color. That was until Stiles and Allison both told him that if there’s anyone who could rock the shirt, it’d be Derek.) Derek raked his eyes from the top of the collar – the top of the barely hidden love bite peeking just above – tracing the spine of the shirt, all the way down to… _God_.

 

Stiles wasn’t wearing any pants. And if not for the way that the shirt was hugging Stiles’ pert ass, dipping in to accentuate the cleft, the way that the lower half of ass was just _there_ , naked for all to see was evident enough. Derek couldn’t help the low, satisfied growl that came bubbling up from the view, nor the way that the sight made him move towards Stiles - like a magnet, reeling him in with a force that Derek can’t ( _won’t_ ) fight.

 

Derek pressed his front to Stiles’ back, winding his hands around the lithe body as he plant his face on the side of Stiles’ neck, breathing in the scent of coffee, of Derek’s own sweat from yesterday, of home, of _mate_. Only then did Derek realized that Stiles was talking, his right hand alternating between gesticulating whatever he was talking about and solving the puzzle (Kakuro) on the iPad. Derek smiled as he felt Stiles’ hand seeking his, fingers twisting their way until they were wound tight around Derek’s, resting on the warm skin that was peeking from the undone buttons.

 

“Are you listening to me, or are you planning on sleeping _on me_?” Stiles asked, his voice barely concealing the amused tone.

 

Derek hid his smile on Stiles’ skin, humming in question as he tightened his hands once, before moving them to Stiles’ hips, dislodging the long fingers from his own. Stiles sighed, oblivious to Derek’s plan, as he reiterated their standing plans for today – brunch with the Sheriff at 11, got to pick him up because the SUV is still in the garage, meeting up with Danny and Ethan – as he moved his hands lower, down from Stiles’ hips to the sides of his muscular thigh, loving the way those muscles twitched as he raked his nails on the smooth skin.

 

(To be honest, Derek would rather spend his days listening to Stiles’ _moaning_ his name than hearing all these things that he had already known. _Why, thank you, my lovely Exposition_.)

 

Derek moved his hands to the back of Stiles’ thigh, running his fingers gingerly up, loving the way that Stiles’ speech stuttered before he gasped out Derek’s name, almost like a plea. Derek stopped his hands just at the place where the thighs met the meat of the ass, moving his fingers along those seams, humming his approval when Stiles pushed back into Derek’s fingers. “Derek,” Stiles said, “What are you doing?”

 

Derek ignored Stiles, in favor of nosing his way to the back of Stiles’ neck, using his face to push the collar away to get to that mark where the neck meets the shoulder. Derek’s fingers made one full circle around Stiles’ bum, now at the top part of that lovely ass, the shirt pulled up to reveal those lovely orbs. Stiles shivered when Derek latched onto the mark that he’d left from last night, a small gasp escaping from his mouth when Derek sucked on the mark as lightly as he could.

 

“ _Derek_.”

 

Derek pulled back at that, but not without a parting kiss to that small patch of skin, glistened and slick with spit. “Stiles,” Derek whispered, his voice breaking from disuse. “Don’t mind me; continue on with your puzzle.”

 

The whine that escaped from Stiles’ throat was like music to Derek’s ears, making the loss of heat from Stiles’ body as he descended to the floor much more worth it. Derek moved the fabric further up, pulling Stiles’ hip a little back allowing the shirttail to rest on Stiles’ back, his ass on full view. Derek rubbed his nose lightly on the smooth surface of the mount, connecting an invisible line from one mole to another; moles that Derek had memorized, committed to his memory from the first time that he was given the opportunity to gaze upon Stiles’ beautiful body.

 

Derek fastened his fingers on Stiles’ mount, pulling them apart when he reached the cleft, dipping his nose in and inhaling deeply the sweet musky smell of Stiles mixed with the smell of his cum from the previous night, the few of that refused to leak out still buried deep in Stiles’ hole. Above him Stiles was arching his back, pressing his rear at Derek, choking for breath as his hands gripped the edge of the table, blunt nails digging into the wood. Derek licked his lips in anticipation, blowing lightly on the reddened rim just to see that pucker twitching at the touch of his warm breath.

 

“Derek. Fucking _stop_ teasing me and – _aaaaahhhhh!_ ”

 

Derek barely kept his amusement at Stiles’ expense in, chuckling (more like panting, really) even as he lick at the rim and the skin surrounding it, relishing the amazing taste that was purely and authentically _Stiles_. Stiles’ mouth was pouring profanity and curses, along with the occasional pleas and _Derek_ ; not that any of that would fool Derek given the way that his lover was fucking feeding Derek his ass. Derek hummed in contentment, getting a good grip on Stiles’ hips as he forced Stiles to stay where Derek wanted him to, taking his sweet time licking and kissing Stiles’ hole, biting and kissing the wondrous mount that were Stiles’ butt.

 

Stiles whined, trying his best to push back on Derek’s face, his mouth running on autopilot as he egged Derek on, telling him to _eat properly_ and _just stick it in already, for fuck sake_. Derek dragged his tongue a few more times before he pushed Stiles forward, causing the man to squawk as he dropped his elbows on top of the table. Derek ignored Stiles’ questioning noise, using both his thumbs to stretch Stiles’ hole, the muscle twitching earnestly as Derek deeply inhaled the enticing smell. “So fucking beautiful.”

 

“I hope you’re _fucking_ that beauty, alright,” Stiles said as he wiggled his ass, as if that’ll get Derek to move (it would). Still, Derek chuckled again, rubbing the pad of his forefinger on the hole, “Oh, I’m planning too, but not now.” That earned him a cross between a whimper and a whine, Stiles’ head dropping to his folded arms on the table, a silent _fuck_ escaping from his mouth. The ring of muscle was loose enough for Derek to slip his finger in, and as soon as he pulled it out, Derek replaced it with his tongue, enjoying the half-shout Stiles made.

 

Between licking Stiles’ inside and sucking whatever remained from their coupling last night, Derek purposely ignored Stiles’ raging hard-on, the throbbing cock bobbing and swinging to the little thrusts that Stiles was making by undulating his hips and from Derek’s tongue fucking in deep. Derek’s own cock was twitching happily on his lap, although it remained half-hard from the very beginning.

 

Soon enough Stiles was sobbing, downright begging for Derek to touch him or just _do something_ , although Derek had never once told Stiles that he couldn’t touch his own dick – but Derek wasn’t going to correct him. Derek lapped at the excess saliva that was slicking Stiles’ hole, the scent and the taste of his own saliva and semen from the previous night mixing with Stiles’ own delicious flavor into a heady aroma of sex and arousal that Derek could not fight.

 

It didn’t take him long to bring Stiles down, making his lover (his mate) a sobbing mess, his mouth not working if not for the gasps and the heavy breathing. Stiles had sneaked one of his hands to Derek’s head, the deft fingers tugging at Derek’s hair every time he thrust in. _He’s near_.

 

Derek took hold of that hand, twisting their fingers together and bringing it back to the table, taking hold of both Stiles’ hands in his. Derek withdrew his tongue, taking in the mess that he’d made on Stiles – it was so beautiful, and it’ll never grow old on him. With one last look and a please from Stiles, Derek transformed his features – morphing his face into his Beta form, letting out his fangs but most importantly, making his tongue longer and broader. (It was one of Stiles’ favorite things about this form.)        

 

He could feel Stiles’ eagerness from the shivers that ran down his spine when Derek snapped his mouth, carefully sinking his teeth on the rump and relishing in the moan that escaped Stiles’ mouth. Derek didn’t waste any more time, pushing his way in and snaking his tongue deep in Stiles’ ass, licking and twisting as Stiles clenched around the muscle. Derek was mindful of his fang, knowing that despite the fact that Stiles loved it when fangs were involve in sex, that Derek was still capable of hurting his mate. The good thing, though, about doing this while wolfed out was that Derek could easily reach Stiles’ prostate – and that, he did. He licked around the lump, enjoying the cry of absolute wanton coming from Stiles, the half shout when Derek managed to drum the tip of his tongue on the spot. That deep, Derek could easily taste himself in Stiles, his cock swelling to fullness and throbbing wildly.

 

It took him less than a minute before Stiles tightened his grip even more (thank God for the lack of claws). Derek’s name like a prayer on Stiles’ lips as he came, coloring the floor with his cum. Derek pulled back slowly, enjoying the way that Stiles was reluctant to let him go – clenching and pulling his tongue back in – before he swallowed back his tongue, along with the heavy taste of Stiles.

 

Derek shifted smoothly back to normal, taking stock of Stiles; the back of his shirt was plastered to Stiles’ back with a  sheen of sweat, the tail end of the shirt still bundled on the small of Stiles’ back. Derek could feel his cock bobbing, taking the view before him with interest but he ignored his cock, choosing instead to pull Stiles to his lap with his hands around those hips. Stiles wound his arms around Derek’s neck, throwing his head back and resting it on Derek’s shoulder, inadvertently or purposely giving Derek full access to the column of his throat. Derek nuzzled obligingly – Stiles clearly enjoying the attention – when a soft hand caressed the side of his face. Derek turned his face and was met with Stiles’ searching lips, kissing and sucking and licking into his mouth with abandon – the small growl that Derek released acting like a fuel to Stiles’ flame as the man pulled Derek in further, angling his body for better access.

 

They stayed like that for awhile, enjoying the taste of them, the taste of together – Stiles with his hands scratching at Derek’s bare shoulder and neck, Derek running his own on Stiles’ back and whatever part of his leg that he managed to grab. Minutes passed, and yet too soon, Stiles pulled back, a look of total bliss on his face, a smile so blinding even in the morning light. “Mornin’,” Stiles said, the humor in his hoarse voice was not missed on Derek.

 

Derek smiled in return, rubbing the top of his nose on Stiles’, wondering if he lucked out with this amazing guy. “Morning.”

 

“So, what’s for breakfast?” Stiles asked, pulling his face back a little to look fondly at Derek. Derek wasn’t fooled though; he felt Stiles’ hand – the one on his shoulder – making its way down his chest and lower. Derek caught that wondering hand as it reached the bottom of his flank, chuckling at the small whine that Stiles made. “What,” Stiles said, his voice dripping with whine like a petulant child, “so you get to snack before brunch and I don’t?”

 

Derek was unable to stop the smile that bloomed on his face. “No,” he said, kissing Stiles’ trapped knuckles. “I was just thinking about shower sex.”

 

That earned Derek two reactions: Stiles biting his shoulder _hard_ and shoving him down onto the floor; and Stiles throwing Derek’s soiled shirt at Derek face and a very _naked_ Stiles running to the only bathroom, singing ‘we can do it in the shower’ over and over again. As Derek got up to his feet, shucking the shirt in the general area of the bed, Derek has to admit; this was definitely his favorite way to wake up on a Sunday morning.  

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, do come by [my tumblr](http://stopdropandhowl.tumblr.com/). I do crazy stuff where I'll do thousands of text post and none of them make sense, and then I'll have that one photoset that I reblogged for no particular reason. 
> 
> Story of my life.


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